


Jeremiah Crichton

by Joann



Category: Farscape
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joann/pseuds/Joann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode fourteen, season 1: Jeremiah Crichton. While blowing off steam Crichton is accidentally left behind, only Crichton doesn't think it was accidental. He thinks everyone, including his lover, were happy to get rid of him as soon as he was off the ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeremiah Crichton

**Author's Note:**

> I would much appreciate any and all critiques, comments, and recommendations to make my writing better.

John Crichton was confused by much of what the crew of Moya said and did. It was a fact of life and the crew weren’t usually patient enough to help him, even Zhaan had begun to get a bit peeved by his constant questions. Unfortunately, it was Ka D’Argo who he was questioning and D’Argo was worse than any of the other crew with being patient to help Crichton understand, which made less sense when you factor in his and D’Argo’s romantic relationship.

“I just don’t get why you always have to ask such questions!” D’Argo picked up his plate and slammed it down in what Crichton deemed the kitchen sink.

“I was just wondering the point of having a DRD maintain your sword, when you already spend so much time taking care of it.” Crichton discarded his plate in the kitchen sink like thing, and then slammed down his hands on either side of it. “You don’t need to get so touchy about it.” D’Argo growled at Crichton.

“I wouldn’t get so ‘touched’ if you didn’t ask so many questions.” D’Argo got up into Crichton’s face with that comment and preceded to glare him down. “And my ‘sword’ is called a Qualta Blade.”

“I wouldn’t asked so many questions if you people made judgments that made sense!” Crichton flung his hands up in surrender and stormed out of the dining area. D’Argo may have been his lover, ever since his second bout of hyper-rage, but he was the most easily irritated when it came to Crichton’s questions. Even Rygel was more patient with Crichton, thought Crichton suspected it was just because he liked feeling superior to somebody.

Crichton decided to head back to his room where he could hopefully get some alone time from these crazy aliens that he lived with on this crazy alien ship. He really hadn’t spent much time in his room since he and D’Argo had gotten together. Crichton walked into his room to find Rygel going through his things.

“What the frell are you doing, Sparky?!” He rushed up to tear his recorder out of the little toad’s hands.

“Crichton! I was just going to help you move your things to D’Argo’s chamber. It’s been forever since you stayed here, I was—Aurgh!!!” Crichton grabbed Rygel’s chair and shoved it out the door.

“I know you and I have talked about this, Sparky! Stay out of my stuff!!” Crichton slammed his hand down on the panel and turned his back to it. He didn’t want to deal with anybody at the moment. Between Zhaan’s blatant disregard for her abilities and D’Argo’s… Well that problem had been going on since he had been expelled in outer space. The whole thing about D’Argo having a wife and a kid and not telling Crichton. D’Argo refused to talk about her and it was driving Crichton insane.

“Crichton!” Crichton’s comm came alive with the sound of Pilot’s agitated voice. Crichton gave slow sigh before answering.

“What’s the problem, Pilot?” Crichton skimmed his stuff, making sure it was all still there.

“I need you to help D’Argo with a blockage. It’s a byproduct of Moya’s pregnancy that needs to be cleared up immediately.” Pilot’s comm cut out unceremoniously.

“Fine, Pilot. I’ll be there ASAP.” Crichton said to the empty hall way as he left his chambers. He got to where D’Argo was standing next to one of Moya’s many conduits with several long poles and he shoved one into Crichton’s hands.

“Follow me.” They headed down one a shaft to a channel door which had a boulder blocking the entrance. D’Argo lined up a pole and stabbed it underneath the boulder. “Grab this.”

“As articulate as usual.” Crichton rolled his eyes as he held the pole in place.

“This entire situation is your fault Crichton.” D’Argo growled at him while he stabbed in a second pole.

“Why is it always my fault?” He tried to twist the pole so he wouldn’t have to jam knock against D’Argo.

“It's not always your fault - just almost always your fault. Now give that amniox a bit of a twist will you?” Straining, John manages to move the boulder a bit. “Not that far only about half as much!” They both yell with disgust as the shifting boulder releases geysers of fetid orange and green steam.

“You know, Pilot said that this blockage was a byproduct of Moya's pregnancy.” Crichton replies icily.

“It was probably caused by you firing that chemical-burning Earth pod in the transport hangar.” D’Argo kicks the boulder in irritation.

“Well you don't have to worry about that. That was the last of my fuel. I'm totally dependent on your technology, now.” Crichton knew that there was some dislike of his earth fuel, at least on D’Argo’s part, because of the worry it caused D’Argo on its combustibility, but Crichton was too agitated to really notice how nice it was that D’Argo was concerned about his wellbeing.

“It's not my technology, its Leviathan technology.” D’Argo replied, trying to wedge the pole deeper beneath the boulder.

“D'Argo, I don't give a rat’s ass what you wanna call it, it's your end of the universe. It's your technology.” He throws down his pole and climbs out of the shaft. “It sure as hezmana ain't mine.” D'Argo groans as another colorful plume of vapor is released from the blockage. Crichton storms down one of Moya's corridors to head back to his chambers and runs into Zhaan.

“John. Is something wrong?” Zhaan’s voice is sweet with concern, so much concern Crichton feels like he might puke.

“Yep. I'm fed up.” He tries to sidestep her but she just starts following him.

“‘Fed up’? Do-” John stops in his tracks and glares a Zhaan.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Is this gonna be another translator microbe hiccup? ‘Oh, John - you're fed up - does that mean you've had too many food cubes today?' It was cute. It was vaguely - vaguely amusing the first six billion times.” He changes a route towards another passage.

“Something clearly is troubling you John. Perhaps I can-”

“So what? You're gonna help? Is that it? Maybe, before, when you were a priest. But guess what? You resigned.” Crichton hurries away feeling slightly bad about being so mean, but he really needed some space. He rushes to change into his flight suit and then to hangar bay. Aeryn intercepts him before he can climb into his module.

“Where are you going?” She demands in her best peace-keeper voice.

“I’m going for a drive.” Crichton shoves her out of his way. She can take it, she’s a tough girl.

“Crichton, I don't understand what you're talking about.” Aeryn seems to have recognized that Crichton has reached some sort of breaking point, because he doesn’t usually act so rough to her or even D’Argo.

“I'm going for a drive. Hitting the strip. I'm going cruising.” He throws some extra gear into his module, before he climbs in.

“What's going on?” Her voice is dripping from the same concern that Zhaan’s voice was.

“I'm getting some space Aeryn, and I'm not talking about the space outside of the ship.” Crichton replies.

“Look, this is hardly the time for human nonsense Crichton.” Crichton does realize that Aeryn is trying to reason with him, and that isn’t something Aeryn does, but he really just needs some space at that moment.

“Oh, God! That is it! You are so - damn smart. There's no time for any stupid human anything. And I'm sick of it Aeryn. I'm sick of Napoleon XVI. I'm sick of blue. I'm sick of tentacle boy. And guess what? I'm sick of you.” Trimmers go through Moya’s hull, but Crichton pays no head. She has been ‘shuddering’ a lot lately. “I'm sick of this whole turd-burp end of the universe.”

Crichton’s comm sounds with D’Argo’s irritating voice and Crichton just rips it off his shirt and throws it behind him in his module. He decided they need some space for the sake of their relationship. He turns on his module and makes his way outside Moya ready to fly a few circles to test his leviathan modifications and to help him blow off steam, but as he starts his first circle he sees Moya light up bright and blue. He grabbed for his comm.

“You guys are bugging out on me?” Before he can get an answer Moya starbursts off into the stars. Crichton’s module is pushed slightly off its course by the wave left off by Moya’s burst of energy. “Oh God. I am a dead man.” Crichton stares off awestruck at where Moya had vanished. He knew that he had been somewhat rude to the rest of the crew, but he didn’t think he had warranted be left behind. He especially didn’t think D’Argo would ever leave him behind. Sure the last few days they had been at each other’s throats, but who else was he going to frell? The idea left him with some nasty images of Zhaan and D’Argo.

It took a little while, but once Crichton had surpassed the original shock, he focused on finding a habitable planet to land on. He did eventually find one. During landing his module died which nearly caused him crash landed into lake. At least the air is breathable and had water and food.

Over the next three months Crichton became chummy with the inhabitants and learned no technology at all worked on this god-forsaken rock. Lishala, a pretty local girl, and Kato-Re, Lishala’s father who was also the local tribe’s leader, welcomed him warmly, but he tried not to disturb their way of life. If he had learned anything from star trek it was that he shouldn’t disrupt an undeveloped society too much, so he built his shelter around his module near the lake where it had crashed.

Some of the tribe members didn’t take to him so well, like Neera who was the tribe’s priestess. Crichton personally didn’t particularly like her either so he tried to just steer clear. Besides, Neera’s son Rokon didn’t seem too bad. Crichton just assumed he highlighted her bad side, because she had seemed to raise a nice enough son and strong warrior. He thought this until Rokon and a couple of his buddies surrounded and attached him on his way back from a meeting with Kato-Re. And of all times and places who should show up, but no one other than Ka D’Argo himself. Crichton didn’t know what to feel as he watched D’Argo fight off his attackers. On one hand it felt nice to see D’Argo again and to watch him play knight in shining leather, but the whole mess about leaving him behind caused a rather bad taste in Crichton’s mouth. Once D’Argo sends all the native warriors packing, he turns to Crichton.

“You smell like dren,” D’Argo cautiously starts to approach the rock Crichton’s sitting on. “You also look like dren.” Crichton glares at D’Argo for a second.

“Get the hezmana away from me.” He flings himself off his rock and storms away.

“We came back for you,” D’Argo responds, falling into step behind Crichton. We or you? I want you to have come back for me, thinks Crichton.

“That's supposed to be a good thing?” Crichton throws a quick glare over his shoulder and picks up his pace. He sees the hurt in D’Argo’s eyes, but that was the same hurt he had felt when he had been ditched that several months ago.

“You'd rather those guys have danced all over your face?” D’Argo easily stays right behind Crichton, but then nearly bumps into him Crichton suddenly stops and turns around.

“Yeah, I would. And wherever you came from. Go back.” Crichton whirls around and stalks off again as D’Argo just stares after him.

John gets to his camp to see Rygel, lying on his back and snoring in John’s hut. John wads up his native vest and pelts it at Rygel startling him awake.

“UH! Wha-? Crichton! You're alive!” Crichton snorts at Rygel’s overenthusiastic revelation.

“No thanks to you. Get up. You're outta here.” John says, taking off his shoes and tossing them provocatively close to Rygel.

Rygel replies as if taken aback, “This isn't the happy reunion I'd planned on.” John just picks up his hand made fishing pole and heads for to his usual fishing spot a couple yards from his camp.

“I didn't plan on one at all - not after you abandoned me.” D’Argo walks behind Crichton.

“Is that what you really think happened?” D’Argo asks in a voice Crichton might have deemed pained and remorseful if he hadn’t known better.

“You're the one! Practically sabotaged poor Moya! Then blasted out of there like a barken out of hezmana!” Rygel snaps.

“I get a little stressed out, and the second I'm off the ship - BOOM! You guys starburst the hezmana out of there!” This is what had happened and know Crichton didn’t want to deal with his ex-lover and ex-shipmate. D’Argo grabbed Crichton’s shoulder roughly and forced him to look at him.

“Moya starburst on her own!” D’Argo slightly loosened his grip on Crichton’s shoulder. “You forced her to decompensate when you failed to release the pressure on her amnexus systems. Do you really think we abandoned you when we spent the last quarter of a cycle searching for you?” Crichton saw the pained expression in D’Argo’s face, but Crichton had been so sure they had abandoned him.

“This whole time, this last 3 months... you came back. To look for me.” The uncertainty must have shown through his voice or face, because he pulled Crichton closer and looked deep into his eyes.

“I would never forsake you. We will be stuck with each other till death, Crichton. That is the blood-brother oath.” D’Argo accented this statement with kissing Crichton deeply. When D’Argo and Crichton broke from their kiss Crichton was left breathless, and somewhat healed on the matter of being left behind. He honestly couldn’t think why he ever thought D’Argo would ever leave him behind, he couldn’t actually think about much else besides D’Argo at that moment. God, has it only been three months? Feels like longer since we’ve done that.

“A lapse of sound judgment I'll regret for the rest of my life.” Rygel looked on in disgust at the open display of affection.

“Yup. You just might... The rest of your life.” John responds while trying to remember that Rygel was there and that anything more than a kiss would be a bad idea.

“We'll all regret it if we don't deal with this negative power vortex.” D’Argo says, refocusing on the problem of getting off this primitive planet now that he had his lover back in the mindset D’Argo wanted him in.

“Which means what, exactly?” Rygel whines.

“If it uses power, it doesn't work.” Crichton extracts himself from D’Argo’s arms and moves back towards his craft.

“We're stuck here? Ooohh! No power, no comforts, no defenses... Sounds like paradise.” Crichton glares at Rygel in response to his sarcasm.

“Anyway, thank God I found this planet. This system.” Crichton starts reorganizing his stuff absent mindedly. A small frown creases D’Argo’s face.

“You thought you would stay here the rest of your life.” John glances over at D’Argo and sighs.

“I haven't exactly stopped thinking that. Look around D'Argo. There's a lot worse places. Since I left my home, I've been hunted... Beaten, locked up, shanghaied, shot at... I've had alien creatures in my face, up my nose, inside my brain, down my pants. This is the first time, the first place, where I've felt peace.” Crichton doesn’t look at D’Argo as he says this. And before he does look at him to even gage his reaction he hears movement from the other side of his module.

“Lishala!” She comes to dead stop when she comes into view of D’Argo. D’Argo picks up on her fear instantly.

“Don't be afraid.” He to seem unintimidating as possible, which is extremely hard for the luxen. To her credit Lishala doesn’t show her intimidation.

“Who are you?” She boldly asks.

“Lishala, this is D'Argo. D'Argo, Lishala.” As the introductions are made Crichton moves to stand in-between them. D’Argo didn’t seem to know whether this is for his protection or hers.

“Why did you bring him here?” Lishala hisses at Crichton.

“I didn't bring him. He came on his own. As a friend.” Crichton says, trying to pacify Lishala.

“Rokon accused your friend of attacking his brothers.” Lishala’s gaze scans D’Argo and takes in his abnormal appearance.

“That is a lie! They ambushed Crichton. It's lucky I showed up when I did.” D’Argo growls in response.

“You've done nothing to harm us since you came. Why do they wish to hurt you?” Lishala turns towards Crichton. He sighs and looks towards D’Argo, jerking his head slightly as a signal to leave. D'Argo’s frown deepens, but he leaves them to talk privately deciding he doesn’t want to anger Crichton again.

“Lishala... Rokon believes that your heart strays my direction.” Crichton watches her very carefully.

“Perhaps he is right.” She stands up straighter with her response.

"No... you and I? That's um... no that's not a good idea.” Crichton starts to turn toward where D’Argo had headed when Lishala kisses him lightly on the lips.

“You must go to my father at once - and convince him that your friend D'Argo is not a threat. Come. I'll take you.” With that Lishala rushes off towards her tribe’s camp.

“D'Argo!” Crichton calls to him as he starts to track off after her. He is slightly flushed and doesn’t quite want D’Argo to see him flustered.

“This way.” Lishala looks back in time to see some men through nets over D’Argo’s head, then over Crichton. She moves to stop them, but two of them restrain her by grabbing her arms.

“D'Argo!” Crichton cries out has he struggles with his bonds.

“No! You must stop! What are you going? Let me go! Rokon! Tell them to let me go! LET ME GO! Rokon! Stop it!” Her pleas fall on deaf ears as he takes in his captives.

“She set us up.” D’Argo hisses in rage.

“No she didn't. So shut up.” Crichton hisses back, trying to pacify his lover.

D'Argo and John are dragged to the encampment and forced to kneel in front of Kato-Re. They are tightly bound with armed warriors stand guard around them. The whole tribe comes out to watch and Neera makes her way besides Kato-Re.

“You are charged with the crime of assault against the personal guards of the Grondeer.” Kato-Re says to D’Argo while he takes in the unusual appearance of tentacles.

“Gracious Grondeer you know that I've always told you the truth. This whole thing started when you asked me to sit beside you. It made Rokon think that I was trying to steal Lishala’s heart.” Crichton tries to reason with Kato-Re. Over his time on the planet they had become something akin to friends and he hoped Kato-Re would take that into consideration for their case.

“That's a lie!” Rokon shouts. It obviously wasn’t the same story he had spun earlier to everybody else.

“ENOUGH!” The tribe leader shouted,” My daughter’s heart is not an object to be possessed or stolen. She is free to give it as she chooses.”

“Try telling him that.” John says, under his breath. He glances over a D’Argo and sees the agitated frown lines as he inspects Lishala. Crichton just rolls his eyes.

“It's the stranger that disrupts our peace! And now his ally, this man-creature, threatens our very safety!” Neera says loud and dramatically to Kato-Re, but it’s so loud it’s obviously for the rest of the tribe to hear as much as for Kato-Re. Crichton narrows his eyes, maybe my initial thoughts about Neera were right.

“The crime of assault against my personal guards carries the sentence of death.” Kato-Re says addressing the crowd. Lishala rushes forward distressed.

“No. Please! I know they're not dangerous! Please. They're no threat!” D’Argo seems to be trying not to sneer at her. Good. At least he has enough common sense to realize how she is helping us.

“BE QUIET OR BE REMOVED!” Crichton is surprised by Kato-Re’s response to his daughter. He has never seen him so terse with her. “But since I believe you are not entirely at fault, you shall be banished to work the compound at Lomata-Kai for a period of ten cycles.”

“Kato-Re, you are wrong.” Crichton knows the verdict could have been much worse, but they didn’t deserve any punishment since they did nothing wrong.

“Grondeer, I remind you - the law is very explicit!” Neera responded to Kato-Re’s proclamation in her loud dramatic way.

“The law is my domain.” Kato-Re growled at her. Then suddenly the sound of whimpering is heard from the sack that was taken from Crichton’s camp. “SEIZE THAT! What do you have in there?”  Kato-Re glares at Crichton. The sack is brought up to Kato-Re, he starts and the crowd gasps and murmurs as a warrior pulls it open to reveal Rygel’s swamp-green head.

Random people in the crowd cry out, "It's him! Aloo-i-Masata!", "Look! It's him!", and "Aloo-i-Masata!"

“So glad you could join us, Your Eminence.” Crichton sarcastically comments to Rygel as he tries to gage the response of the crowd. Rygel, Crichton and D’Argo watch in awe as the people in the crowd begin to get down on their knees and chant...

“Crichton, what the frell is going on?” Rygel hisses. John glances behind Rygel and suddenly notices that two large stone monoliths standing in the village form the shape of a Hynerian.

He replies incredulously, “They think... they think... you're God.”

“No. Not a god, but a Sovereign!” He seems to glow under the attention and he offers the crowd a little royal wave.

After getting Rygel set up as the god of the tribe, what moral issues Crichton had with this were quickly forgot as he watched Neera and Rokon whisper back and forth; they had tried to get them killed.

Through Rygel having somewhat an idea of how to figure out what the hezmana is going on, he was able to get the royal “text” from Neera. Translating it would take a while, so John headed back to his camp. He decides to distress and think over what had happened with something he had greatly grown to like over the past months, fishing.

He was extremely glad to know everyone didn’t abandon him and D’Argo was decidedly still an advocate for their relationship, but it was hard to let go of all the resentment that had built up over the past months. Crichton decided checking on his camp was a good enough reason to get away for a little while, just to try and process things. He made a quick comment to D’Argo and Nigel and then took off before D’Argo could protest. When he got back  Crichton was surprised to see Lishala waiting for him.

“Hi.” Crichton said, notifying her that he was there.

Lishala’s reply was terse, “Are you immortal, too? Like the Masata? When were you going to tell me? I thought we had a future together.”

Crichton signed, he felt like he had been signing a lot today. “Lishala... Our futures were never meant to be one.”

“Doesn't matter anyway. Now that he's come, all our futures are different now. It is written in the prophecy.” She started to take off, but Crichton stopped her.

“Lishala, what is the prophecy?” He looked at her in earnest trying to motivate her into talking.

“He is the Masata. Through the priestans, he's protected us, guided us, ruled us throughout our exile on this planet. Later, after the celebration, he'll rise up and lead us to the light.” She looked at Crichton as if he should already know it.

“Wait - you think that Rygel is going to take you off this planet?” Crichton said, incredulously.

“Whether we want to go or not!” Lishala declared.

“Lishala, Rygel is not a spiritual being. He doesn't have any special powers.”

“That's not true! We've worshipped his idol for generations and now he has returned! Just as it is written in the Timbala.”

“Your Timbala... your beliefs… they're wrong.” Lishala tries to protest, but Crichton continues. “A flesh and blood Dominar has been presented to you as some kind of a god.”

“No! It's not true! If he is the real Masata, he will rise up and lead us to the light. If he does not prove himself as the true Masata tonight, he will suffer a torturous death beyond any other. And so will you.” Crichton tries to stop her again, but Lishala storms off. Irritated with the whole incident, Crichton returned to the village.

When he gets there he sees dancers around the fire, dancing to drums. White flags are set up everywhere. Through them he sees D’Argo watching everything near where Rygel is reading the Timbala. Crichton hesitates only a second before heading over.

Crichton reaches the Chieftain’s pavilion and hears D’Argo say to Rygel, “The party's getting started, looks like you're the guest of honor. Rygel, you'd better find something we can use.”

Rygel replies, thoughtfully, “The ancestors of these people - these Acquarans - they were colonists. Sent out from my empire during the reign of Rygel X. They were meant to expand the influence of my peoples' monarchy and they were... they were abandoned. Rygel X sent them here then he…”

“Rygel, what?” Crichton says, trying to encourage Rygel to continue.

“Whatever's causing the power drain across the planet is intentional. There's some sort of device sent by my empire that purposely keeps these people on this planet. So that they can't travel, can't learn of other cultures, can't be anything other than the blind followers of the family of Rygel.” A frown creases the Hynerian’s face.

“What's this about you being some kind of a Masata?” D’Argo asks.

“A lot of this is new. The priestans have made it up. Elevated my ancestors and me to gods - to elevate themselves. But I must tell them. Explain. I'm Rygel XVI! They must listen!”

“Rygel, look at them out there. They aren't preparing for the return of a worldly king. They're preparing for the return their savior.” D’Argo gestures to the tribes.

Rygel takes a second to respond. “Then we're frelled.”

“Well hakuna matata, Masata. We got a big problem. They're all expecting slug-man here is going to rise up and lead them into the light.”

“It's a metaphor, that's all. A colorful bit of descriptive language to infer the guiding of people to a better way of life.”

“Listen - Rygel! To these people, it's not any damn metaphor! They are burning their possessions!” Crichton agitatedly says.

“They are expecting you to rise up and part the heavens.” D’Argo adds.

“But I - I can't do that! I - ohohoh-hoho!” Crichton follows Nigel’s gaze to Neera. She smiles, bows and backs away. “No! No wait! I command you.”

“Great.” Crichton glances and D’Argo, who glances back at him with a frown.

“People of Acquara. Loyal subjects. In this time of - of hope, of, uh... of greater understanding, it is my wish that you will understand that we have much to accomplish. Together. As a united people before, um... and, uh... by my hand, uh, I shall rise up and lead you to the light.” Rygel tries to get the attention of Kato-Re away from Neera while addressing the whole village. “So. As we embark together on this great journey forward, uh, could, uh, take a very long time-”

Neera steps forward, “No! It is written that the Masata will rise up and lead us to the light.”

“But that's just a metaphor! Uh, uh - and as your leader, your Dominar, I command that you should wait-” Rygel tries to argue but it cut off by Neera.

“The sacred Timbala does not command us to wait! It states without question: ‘By the hand of the Masata, shall he rise and lead us to the light.’ Rise and lead us to the light!” She turns her back on Rygel and faces the crowd, exhorting them on. “Rise up and lead us to the light!”

The villagers take up her call, "Rise up and lead us to the light!"

“Listen! Listen to me! I-I” Rygel tries, despairingly to draw Neera back and away from Kato-Re. “I can't!”

“False God! He's not the Masata! False God!” She gestures to crowd that formed until they started chanting too.

“But I never was a god!” Rygel tries to reason.

Kato-Re yells, “Seize him!” and there is a mad dash of guards and some of the other tribesmen for Rygel. Crichton tries to stand in the way, but he is suddenly yanked out of the way. He looks over to see D’Argo dragging him towards the woods.

“D'Argo! Let me go!” He tries to get free of D’Argo’s grip, but he was way too strong. Crichton looks back and sees the guards grabbing Rygel.

“Crichton! Crichton, help meeee!” That last thing he sees, before he is pulled out of sight in Neera’s evil smirk. D’Argo pulls Crichton a good distance, before Crichton can make him stop.

“For God’s sake! D'Argo they're going to fry Rygel!” Crichton tries to pull his wrist out of D’Argo’s grasp, but is unable.

“We'll be no help to anyone if they fry us, too.” D’Argo looks around trying to determine if anybody was following them or within any close distance.

“D’Argo! I don’t leave friends behind.” He is finally able to wrench his wrist out of D’Argo’s grasp and storms off toward the lake and his camp. He hears D’Argo catch up with him and come up to walk besides him. He glances over and sees D’Argo’s pained expression. Crichton knew what he had said was a low blow, but he really didn’t like leaving Rygel to be burned at the stake.

“We will find a way to save him, but we need a plan because we won’t all survive an all-out war between us and those guards.” D’Argo said as they reached the lake. Crichton stopped and turned to D’Argo.

“I know you're right. I’m sorry, but I guess my whole ordeal is going to take me a little while to get over. I thought the whole time that you ’all left me and it hurt. It’s probably going to take me a couple days of being on Moya to help me realize that you… didn’t.” D’Argo reached out and Crichton returned his embrace.

“I am sorry you ever had to think that.” D’Argo said, softly into Crichton’s ear. Then they hear a great splash in the lake not too far from them. John’s slips out of D’Argo’s arms to see a projectile in the water. He wades in and fishes it out.

“Okay, I give up. What is it?” Crichton says, as he hands the object to D’Argo.

"It's from Moya. Thermal storage casing." Crichton reached over and unscrewed the lid of the projectile, exposing a tube. Pulling it out, the tube unravelled into film.

"It looks like the girls are trying to send us a message." John held the film tight.  "That's coordinates. They appear to be near, no, in the village." D'Argo lets loose a low growl, grabbing Crichton around the middle.

"I don't want you going back there." Crichton squirms in D’Argo’s grip enough so he can give D’Argo an incredulous look.

“We have to to save Rygel anyways.” D’Argo growled again, then sighed.

“What did you have in mind?” Crichton didn’t respond, but started walking in the direction of the village.

“Stop! Let him go. You've been betrayed. All of you. You've been forced to live on this planet against your will, as were your ancestors before you.” Crichton said as he walked right into the middle of the Rygel-roast.

“This is a horrible plan.” D’Argo huffed under his breath.

“Don't listen to him!” Shouted Neera, trying to regain the villagers attention.

“There is a device... A device which drains all power sources that keeps your machinery from working.” Crichton says while edging his towards Rygel. D’Argo keeping a mere foot away at all times.

“There is no device.” Rokon responds as he picks up his weapon. D’Argo takes a step towards standing between him and Crichton, but Crichton doesn’t let him.

“This device sends out an invisible pulse which blankets the entire planet’s surface.” Right then Rokon strikes at Crichton. D’Argo immediately responds with his Qualta Blade, knocking Rokon’s weapon away from Crichton.

“When your ancestors first arrived at this planet, their starships functioned as did all the machines that they left behind. But you've been lied to. First by those who left you here - and then by the priestans.” Crichton continues talking to the crowd as if Rokon never attacked.

“You dare attack the priestans? That's the highest sacrilege!” Neera waves her hand as if this was the most disrespectful thing that anybody could say.

“No!” Rygel responds, before Crichton can retort. “The highest sacrilege is purposely keeping your own people ignorant and subjugated for your own glorification!”

“Lies! You have no proof of anything!” Neera sneers at Rygel.

“Yes I have! In the Timbala.” Rygel gestures to where the book lays where he had been reading it.

“But only the priestans have read it.” Kato-Re eyes Neera. Crichton attempts to contain his grin as the the chieftain stands to face Neera.

“If it is true, that would mean the priestans have lied to us for generations.” Lishala says.

“That cannot be.” Rokon says, stepping between his mother and the chieftain.

“Kill him, Rokon. He's mad. Just kill him.” Neera wildly gestures towards Crichton. D’Argo growls at both of them and takes a small step towards Rokon.

“Don't Rokon.” Lishala says as she steps toward Rokon.

“Kill him, Rokon!” Neera shouts.

“Don't!” Lishala shouts back.

“Kill him Rokon!” Neera shrieks as she shoves Rokon towards Crichton.

“If what you are saying is true, then where is this device? Where is it?” Rokon smugly says, thinking that he outsmarted the aliens. Crichton nearly hissed.

“I'm not entirely sure Rokon, but the people from my ship just sent the coordinates. Just give me a chance to find it-” Rokon attacks again and D’Argo steps in again. Some of the other warriors try to move towards Crichton but D’Argo shoves him out of the way. Crichton jerks his head around, trying to find the answers when his eyes land on the monolith again. At the base there is two tiny, four-fingered indentations.

"By the hand of the Masata, shall he rise up and lead us to the light!" Luckily Crichton saw all the old Tarzan and Indiana Jones movies. He gets the idea and lunges for Rygel.

“Sparky! You're up! D'Argo!” D'Argo covers him while he sprints with Rygel to the base of the monolith.

“Rygel, the impression! Your hands! Right there!” Crichton presses Rygel’s hands into the impressions and a blue glow emanates from beneath them. The fighting ceases as cracks filled with brilliant light appear in the stone and the monolith breaks apart, releasing a column of lightning blue energy into the sky. The villagers gasp and Rygel’s hoverchair comes back to life and sails towards him like a homing pigeon to its roost. He settles into it - and rises up.

All the villagers fall to their knees and start to chant “Aloo-i-Masata, Aloo-i-Masata...”

“No. Cease. I command it. I have not risen. I am not a deity. I am but a Worthy Being like yourselves. But I am your Sovereign.” Rygel seemed to greatly enjoy the status of being over these people.

“The Slug Who Would Be King.” Crichton says under his breath.

After getting Neera locked in a nearby house, Crichton headed back to his prowler. He passed Rygel taking to the chieftain about a new power order. Crichton chuckled at the thought. It would be good for the village, but no doubt Rygel would still be on top.

He was back at his little camp before he realized D’Argo had followed him. He let D’Argo come up behind him and encircle his waist with his arms.

“So we get to go back to Moya now?” Crichton leaned back into D’Argo’s warm embrace.

“I don’t know if I can wait that long.” D’Argo’s teeth dragged along Crichton’s neck, sending chills down his spine.

“It has been a couple of months, hasn’t it?” Crichton reached up to stroke D’Argo’s strong arms. D’Argo responded by grinding his hips into Crichton’s ass. Crichton could feel D’Argo’s hard on and he groaned in response.

“I think that sounds like a great idea, but it should wait till we’re back on Moya.” D’Argo rests his head on Crichton’s shoulder with a sigh.

“Fine, but then I’m going to keep you in my room for the next ten cycles and do all manner of indecent things to you.” D’Argo nips at Crichton’s throat for emphases, hands slipping down over Crichton’s body before pulling away. Crichton quickly got to work clearing his camp of everything he would be bringing back with him and loading it into his module.

After packing up he heads back to the village to say his goodbyes. He was glad to find Rokon and Lishala together, and even though Lishala tried to get him to stay he figured that the two of them would take good care of each other.

“Crichton! It's time to go.” D’Argo had gotten the transport pod that he and Rygel had came down in all ready to go. Crichton walked over to him and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Meet you up their.” Crichton sighed. “Guess I got some apologies to make up on the ship… Zhaan, Aeryn... you.” He glanced at D’Argo’s face.

“Forget about that.” D’Argo pulls Crichton close then stops and looks at him.

“Was it worth the trouble human?” Crichton just smirks at him.

“Huh... What trouble? Let's hit the road.” He goes in for another chaste kiss and then breaks away from D’Argo and sprints towards his module.


End file.
